Thinking it Over
by HR always live on
Summary: Set after the bench conversation in 10-4. Ruth's alone at home, thinking about where it all went wrong. "I won't go if you say you can't afford to lose me. Tell me to stay and I will." "I think you should go." Chapter 4 up.
1. Chapter 1

**So this follows that bench scene at the end of 10-4, where Ruth talks to Harry about leaving for the Home Office. This is short, because it's in the first person which I rarely, if ever, write in. Enjoy.**

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**Ruth.**

It's late at night and I'm sitting at home, my feet curled under me as I drink more red wine than I probably should. I've been reading my transfer papers to the Home Office and it's complete except for two things. My signature and Harry's. And I can't sign it. I've had the pen hovering over the dotted line where my signature belongs several times, but I can't bring myself to actually do it, to bring pen to paper and admit that my future is somewhere away from Harry Pearce. I know exactly why. It would mean leaving Harry and admitting to myself that whatever IT is between us, it's over. And it hurts to even think of that. I love him and I don't want to feel like this because it's done nothing but hurt me and cause me such pain. I wish I didn't love him like this because it hurts far too much.

I gave him the opportunity this afternoon, when we spoke on a bench, away from the grid and Thames House. Where no one would be listening in, and in a place that I knew no one from five, six or GCHQ was monitoring. I told him very simply "tell me to stay and I will." And he told me to go to the Home Office. To leave. I wanted him to say that he needed me, that he wanted me. That he couldn't possibly contemplate letting me go, that not seeing me every day would be awful. But of course he didn't say any of those things, and I'm now sat with my red wine contemplating the words he didn't say that I longed to hear. "Don't leave. Stay with me." All I wanted was for him to say he needed me, pathetic as that sounds. I gave him the perfect opportunity to ask me to stay, and he didn't. He chose not to.

I want so badly to be able to let him go. To not care that he still has a thing for Elena, to not care that he had a son that he never mentioned to me once, to be able to accept that lying comes as easily to him as breathing. To… and here's the hard one. To accept that maybe I never really meant all that much to him, no matter what _I_ felt for him. Yes, that's the tough one. That's the one that hurts like hell whenever it crosses my mind.

I drain my wine glass, wondering exactly why I love this enigma of a man. This man who hides a lot of himself from everyone including me. My Harry who was never really mine. I know that he's a good man, a man who has to hide who he is to do his job. I fear that I was just a convenient person to give his affections to. We never really became something, but it was always hovering in the air between us. I loved the way he smiled at me, the way his eyes sparkled for me and especially how he allowed himself to be honest with me and only me at work. I was special. That seems a long time ago now, we haven't been like that in a while and I wonder if I was simply convenient for Harry because I was always there and he felt attracted to me. Good old dependable Ruth, she'll always be around. Did his feelings ever run as deeply as mine did? As mine still do?

Before I'm really conscious that I've made the decision, I've stood up, my house keys are in my hand and I'm halfway towards the door. I know that I'm planning to go to Harry's, as if he's drawing me there like a magnet but I haven't quite formed the reason behind it in my mind. I pick up the papers that Harry needs to sign for my new job and leave my flat before I can change my mind. I've had too much to drink to drive, so I hail a taxi before I've even thought through what I want to say to him. I guess I have the journey to think about it.

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**Thanks for reading and I'd love to know what you think.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the encouragement for the first chapter. I am attempting to make at least some sense of S10, and I'm enjoying writing the first person here.**

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**Harry**

It's been a long day. But they're all long days at the moment. I rue the day I ever set foot in Berlin and met bloody Elena Gavrik. She's single-handedly removed me of the two women I've loved most in my life. Well, single-handedly maybe isn't fair. I just wish she'd crawl back into her hole and leave me, Ruth and London alone.

I've lost her now. Ruth. She's leaving the grid for the Home Office and I can't blame her. She deserves to have the kind of career that she can't get if she stays where she is on the grid. She deserves more, so much more than I can give her, in so many ways. She asked me if I wanted her to stay on the grid. If I'm being selfish, I would have asked her to stay with me, I would have told her that her presence is the only thing that makes the day bearable. That even with the mess the Gavrik's have created, seeing her is the bright point of my day. I miss the way she used to barge into my office without knocking. She always knocks now, and I miss the days when she just came straight in without warning. I miss her smile. I miss how she used to look at me. Now she's hurt by me and disappointed by my actions, I can tell every time she looks at me. Maybe it'll be easier if I don't have to see her every day.

The thought of not seeing her face every time I look up from my desk has me downing the whisky I've already poured. Even worse, to look up at her replacement who'll never do the job as well as Ruth did. God, that would be worse. Will be, I remind myself as I pour another measure of whisky before sitting in my armchair heavily. I feel bone tired, and I just want to close my eyes and hope it all looks better in the morning, though I know it won't. And I'll have a restless nights sleep anyway. I can't remember the last time I truly slept through the entire night.

I think the thing I miss most is her trust. I never quite realised how much I valued the way she trusted me, and I her until it had gone. I assumed it would always be there, between our working selves if nothing more. Now I know that she no longer trusts my judgement with the Gavrik's back in my life. And what's worse is that I can't blame her. If a past lover of hers reappeared in her life, I wouldn't like it. No, actually, I'd be insanely jealous. Maybe she's jealous of Elena, though there's nothing going on there. The thought gives me some hope, because if Ruth is jealous, there may be a chance for us yet.

The doorbell rings and I know it's Ruth before the echo of the ring dies away. I just know it's her. No one else would come calling this late at night. I open the door and I'm proved right. My breath catches in my throat at how beautiful she is. Her hair is slightly wind blown and her eyes are bright. The only light is coming from the house and one street light, but she still looks gorgeous.

"I wasn't expecting you," I say, then wish I'd said something better than that.

"I know," she said. "Can I come in?"

I step aside and let her into my house, wondering what she wants and why she's here this late. I feel a sense of foreboding and hope it's misplaced. I don't have the energy or the heart for an argument with her tonight. We settle in the kitchen and she takes her coat off, biting her lip for a moment before looking at me. She's changed clothes since I saw her at work, now in jeans and a loose T shirt. I haven't seen her this casual in a long time. I can't quite read the look in her eyes, but she's twitching slightly which means she's nervous about being here.

"A drink?" I ask to break the silence.

"Yes," she says. "Red wine?" I'm surprised but I don't comment as I pour two glasses, thinking I'll join her. I have a feeling that I'll need it, though mixing whisky and wine might not be the best judgement I've ever had.

"What do I owe the pleasure of your company to?" I ask.

She looks directly in my eyes for a moment before focusing on her glass instead. "I need you to promise me something before I start to talk, Harry," she said. "I need you to promise that you're going to be honest with me tonight, no matter what the truth is. I can't bear any more lies and… I just need your word."

"Okay," I say, feeling like I now needed the alcohol. "I'll be honest with you." Then I wait for the rug to be pulled out from underneath me. Ruth always seems to be capable of that.

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**More soon, though it might have to wait until after the weekend. Thanks for reading and especially those who have the chance to review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ruth**

I always seem to forget how immediate Harry is. When he's looking at me, and I have all of his attention, it's disconcerting. Almost intimidating and the words I had on the tip of my tongue slip away in the face of those hazel eyes, all of his focus on me. Instead I reach for the forms Harry has to sign so I can go to the Home Office. He sees them and recognises them for what they are, and I see the openness in his eyes vanish. I hadn't noticed it was there until it disappeared, and he's turned into the Harry of the grid again.

"Of course," he says, voice carefully masked of any emotion he might betray. He moves to take hold of the forms but I don't let go of them.

"Harry," I say, the tone of my voice making him look at me again. "You know when I said this afternoon… Tell me to stay and I will?" I wait for him to nod, and I know that he won't interrupt me. I take a deep breath, very aware that what I'm about to say will change our… well, relationship isn't exactly the right word. "That was the moment I wanted you to tell me to stay. I wanted more than anything in the world for you to say that you couldn't bear it if we didn't work together, if we didn't see each other every day." I sigh, unable to read the look in his eyes. I'm not sure I want to either and I look down at my hands. Though I'm on my third rather large glass of wine of the night, I haven't drunk nearly enough to be ready for this conversation that I started. It was enough alcohol to get me in a taxi and ring the doorbell, but not enough for this. I hate how small my voice has become but I can't stop now. "I just... wanted you to ask me to stay with you."

"Look at me Ruth," he says, his voice quiet but seductive. I take a moment before I do. "I am not going to beg you to stay with me on the grid." It feels as if my heart has sunk through the floor at those words, because it's exactly what I want him to do. I'd love for him to want me around him all the time, and even better for him to actually form the words and tell me so. "I don't want you to stay on the grid because I'm asking you to. I don't want you in section D because you feel as if you should be there, or because of pity. I don't want to be the one who holds back your career and then have you resent me for it at some point in the future." He sighs and looks at me intensely, in a way that takes my breath away. "Of course I don't want you to leave Thames House. The thought of having to go to work and not see you…" he shakes his head as if he can't form the words. "But I won't hold you back, Ruth."

I nod and drain my glass in one. I can see his point of view, but half of me, the more sensitive half, still feels as if he won't fight for me. "You wanted me to ask you to stay," he says as if finally absorbing the words. He gets up for the wine bottle and I watch avidly as his muscles move under the thin material of his shirt. The urge to run my hands over his back is strong, but it passes as he turns and fills my glass up.

"Yes, I did want that" I say. "But then there's Elena and… I wonder why I'm even surprised." There, I've done it. I've mentioned the name I'm so afraid of. So afraid of what it means for us.

"I'm not in love with her," he says, quietly but with a certainty in his voice that surprises me. "I know you think I am, but I'm not. I find it… painful to associate with her, which is part of the reason I'm not letting you in. It's difficult for me to confront the man I was thirty years ago. I'm not proud of who I used to be and Elena and Sasha are constant reminders of that and I feel incredibly guilty. I don't want to close down around you." He closes his eyes and looks almost in pain.

"Do you know how much hurt you could have saved me if you had simply told me you weren't in love with her?" I ask. I am hurt, and I've been hurting for weeks. "All it would have taken is one honest sentence from you and I would never have felt like this."

"How do you feel?" he asks, his hazel eyes boring into mine. When I don't answer right away, he continues. "If I'm being honest tonight, so are you."

I gather my thoughts before I speak, wanting to get this right. "I feel like I'm simply… convenient," I say. "That you only ever paid me any attention because I was there and you felt attracted to me. Then I feel like a fool for having ever thought it went deeper than that."

"I proposed to you!" he explodes. We had been speaking quietly and the loudness startles me. His eyes have gone dark and I know I've made him angry with my words. But it's the truth and it is exactly how I feel. His proposal feels a long time ago and it's a memory I attempt to block out because it was awful. Both the way he did it and how badly I reacted. I still flinch away from how unnecessarily harsh I was on the Thames House roof a couple of days afterwards. I hadn't meant it the way it sounded. "If that doesn't tell you how I feel about you, what will?" he asks.

"Harry, yes. You asked me to marry you," I say, trying to keep hold of my temper. "You never once said how you felt, you asked me at a funeral for Christ's sake. And maybe Ros's funeral didn't make you emotional like I said, but it **_did_ **make me emotional! God, Harry, do you think I wanted you to propose at a funeral? Of course I didn't. Out of all the occasions I'd ever imagined, that wasn't one of them. And I wasn't brave enough to say yes and that haunts me every day." My eyes are stinging with tears but the last thing I want to do right now is cry. I have to hold it together, I didn't come over to Harry's to fall apart. This is a conversation that's been long overdue between us, it's too important to cry over. I blink the tears away and that's when his hand touches mine, taking hold of my fingers. It's the first time we've touched since I entered his house. Actually, it's the first time we've touched in months. His warm touch on my hand is gentle and comforting and it sends the tears rolling down my face before I can stop them.

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**I'm finding these first person chapters both enjoyable and draining to write! I'll update when I can. Thanks for reading and especially reviewing**.


	4. Chapter 4

**Harry**

She's crying and I feel terrible for shouting at her. Admittedly my proposal was not my finest hour and when my pride isn't getting in the way, I don't blame her for saying no. It was the wrong time and place and I did make a mess of it. But the memory of it still hurts me. She moves her hand to wipe her eyes, clearly embarrassed by crying in front of me.

"Sorry," she says, not looking at me and I feel the honesty between us tonight begin to waver as she closes herself to me. "I don't mean to cry in front of you, I just…"

"Ruth, it's fine," I say. I miss the loss of connection that holding her hand gave me and I sit down opposite her, taking a deep drink from my wine glass. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for how I proposed," I say honestly. "I should never have done that, and certainly not in those circumstances. I am sorry."

She shakes her head, but looking at the table and not at me. "Please look at me, Ruth," I say. "I need to know how you're feeling and I can't do that when you're staring at the table." She lifts her head and her eyes are still damp. I feel guilty. I knew Elena would be hurting her as a ghost from my past, but I assumed that she knew exactly how I felt. That no one could possibly replace her, and that when she had to leave I didn't manage a single day over those three years without thinking about her. Without hoping and praying that she was somewhere safe.

"Did you ever love her?" Ruth asks.

"No," I tell her. "That's what makes me feel so guilty. All those years ago, I was just using her. To get information, to have her spying for five, and I never really felt anything for her. I shouldn't have done that."

"Why did you cheat on your wife?" she asks, probing more painful memories that I didn't realise still hurt me. "I know it's not any of my business, but I want to know."

I wonder if she'd be asking this, had she had no alcohol tonight. "I didn't love my wife. She was back home and I was young enough and stupid enough to believe that what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her." I pause before continuing, looking at her beautiful blue eyes, eyes I want to see sparkle with joy one day, not the sadness that seems to be permanently on her face these days. I didn't know how much value I would one day place on her smile. "I'm not that man any more. I haven't been for a long time."

"Okay," she says.

"While we're here, being open and honest, I want to ask you something." She nods and I continue, my heart beating rather hard in my chest as I mention a subject which I've avoided as much as I can for two years. "Do you still blame me for George?"

"No," she says without even pausing to think of it. "I blamed you when I first came back to London because it was a lot easier than placing the blame with myself. I should never have allowed myself to become involved with someone else. I knew that one day my old life could come to claim me, and it was so unfair to involve him in that. Or anyone."

"Did you love him?" I know I'm treading on dangerous ground but I don't know if I'll ever get the chance to talk about him like this, without her changing the subject. Or if I'll be brave enough to contemplate hearing an answer I don't want to accept.

"Not the way I…" her eyes flick to my face, intense and open before she looks away and I hope she was going to say "not the way I love you." But maybe that's too optimistic. "No. It was… different. I liked having a family and a home. That's what I enjoyed with George. Having a place I belonged, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same as you and me."

I decide I'm going to push her, though I'm well aware it's dangerous. "And what is you and me?"

"My heart aches for you," she says, her face going red and her eyes darting around the room, anywhere but on me. I'm so grateful she's said that, because it gives me some idea of where we stand, that there's hope for us. Or maybe more than hope.

"I'm in love with you," I say before I've made the decision to speak. It's too late and I can't take the words back, but when she smiles at me I realise I don't want to. I love that smile on her face, and I hope once this mess with the Russians is over I'll see that smile more often. Suddenly she's moving and before I'm fully aware, she's kissed me, just a light press of lips to mine. I can't let her go after just that, so I stand up and my arms wrap around her waist as I kiss her again, this time properly. The kiss is wonderful, her lips are so soft but I can taste the wine on her, and I wonder how much she's had.

"Are you drunk?" I ask, slightly breathlessly, keeping my hands around her waist, unwilling to let her go.

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I had a couple of glasses before I left home, but I am not drunk." At the moment I'm not inclined to argue, and I pull her to me again. God, I could kiss her forever.

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**I think just one more chapter of this to go. Thank you for reading and especially reviewing.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Ruth**

I wake up, but keep my eyes tightly closed. I want to commit last night to memory entirely, because I promised myself if I ever got the opportunity, I'd make the most of it. Knowing us, we're likely to fall apart before we've even got going. I push that depressing thought aside and focus on the feeling of his hands and lips all over my skin. My right shoulder throbs where Harry bit me, trying not to call out as he came. I know he's drawn blood there, and I find that I don't care in the slightest. I try to focus on how he looked, naked and wanting me in the dim light from a single lamp. I want to remember that for the rest of my life. The feel of his buttocks under my hands as he thrust into me. How he touched my breasts so gently and tenderly.

We'd made love twice, the second time happening somewhere around two in the morning in complete darkness. I'd woken up and his hand had been stroking my thigh lightly and in silence we'd turned to each other and quietly made love without either of us saying a word. It'd been wonderful and so sensual and I ache for him just thinking about it.

The bed sheets feel wonderful against my naked body and I feel that incredible relaxed way that I always feel after sex. I stretch my arm across the bed sheets, but they're cold, and Harry isn't here. That's when I finally open my eyes and feel very disappointed that I'm waking up alone. I sit up, and listen, hoping Harry's somewhere in the house, the bathroom or the kitchen. He wouldn't have left me alone, would he? I hear his footsteps on the stairs and I feel the tension leave me.

My T shirt is hanging on the door frame and I frown at it. Last time I'd seen my shirt, it'd been balled up half way on the stairs as Harry stoked my body and we stumbled towards his bedroom. Its definitely been ironed as well, because it's absolutely pristine with not a crease visible. I see my jeans, folded up on a chair, my underwear resting on top of them as Harry comes into the bedroom with a breakfast tray. He smiles at me as he perches on the edge of the bed. "I brought you toast. I don't really have anything else for breakfast." He seems a little embarrassed, or maybe nervous this morning and I don't know why.

"Toast's perfect," I say. He sets the tray on my lap and I pick up my mug of coffee. He's already added one and a half sugars, just the way I like it and I smile. "Get back in bed," I say simply. He smiles, sheds his dressing gown and does what I suggest as I start buttering my toast. He rests a hand on my shoulders for a moment but it doesn't feel comfortable.

"Harry?" I say. "Why are you so… shy of me this morning?"

He hesitates before answering, his eyes darting around before settling on me. "I guess… I'm expecting something to come up and drive us apart, like it usually does. I don't want this to end. I enjoyed last night." He kisses my neck sensually and it makes me shiver. "Immensely."

"You didn't sleep well though," I say, realising as I say it how true it is. He was awake in the middle of the night when we had sex for the second time, and he got up before me and made breakfast. It's only half past six now.

"It's not anything to do with you," he says, holding my free hand tightly as I munch on my toast. "I never sleep well when someone's in my bed. It's too long being a spy. Every movement has me waking up and you…" he tails off uncomfortably.

"I fidget a lot," I finish for him. "I know I do, I'm sorry." He still looks uncomfortable so I lean towards him and kiss him reassuringly. "I'm not offended," I promise him. I'm not, I know from past experience that it's difficult to actually sleep with me because I never stay still. "I could have slept in the spare room. Or you could have if I was disturbing you."

"I liked having you with me," he says firmly. "I enjoyed seeing your face and waking up to you." We don't say anything further as we both eat our toast and drink our coffee. Soon the breakfast tray is on the floor and he's pulling me into his arms, our skin touching everywhere. I'm thoroughly enjoying the sensation of him pressing up against me, but I know I have to break it.

"One night isn't going to fix us," I say. "It doesn't make everything magically better, no matter how mind blowing it was." He smirks slightly at that. "We have to learn to talk to each other properly. To communicate better, because I don't want to look at you one day and not know how you're feeling. From past experience, it hurts, Harry."

"We need that from both of us," he says and I know he's right. "I don't want to lose you. Not now." I agree.

"Harry, I didn't plan to have sex with you when I came over last night. You know that, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he says. "If we'd planned it, it would never have happened." I nod. "Not that I'd have minded, had you come over for sex."

I roll my eyes and smile. I'm finding I like a relaxed Harry and I hope I can see this side of him more often.

I sit up, making sure I'm covered with the bed sheet, wanting to put some distance between us before I mention the Russians and ruin the nice mood I woke up in. "We need to talk about the Gavriks."

"What about them?" he asks shortly.

"Has it ever occurred to you that Elena could be lying?"

"Yes," he says. This throws me, because I hadn't expected that to be his answer. "I'm well aware she could be lying about lots of things. I am considering things from all angles, and I certainly don't trust her."

"Harry, I think… you should have a DNA test to see whether Sasha is yours."

He smiles slightly and I know it's not with humour. "Do you really think I'd have just accepted her word? When I know she was sleeping with both myself and her husband at the same time? I'm not unintelligent, of course I checked."

"And?"

"Sasha... He is mine. For good or bad."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it," I say. I now feel stupid for bringing it up. "It's none of my business." I feel his hand stroke my back gently.

"I want you to be able to talk to me," Harry says. "It doesn't matter what the subject is, I'd like for you to be able to talk freely. And considering how much you see of the Gavrik's at work, I don't blame you for mentioning it."

I curl into him again, never wanting to leave his side or stop stroking his skin. He kisses my head gently and I hope he feels the same. "We need to get ready for work soon," he says, showing no sign of moving.

"I know," I say. "I love you, Harry." He holds me tighter and I smile. I never thought saying those words would feel so freeing, but they do.

"I love you, too," he says, the words filling me with joy. "Now we really have to move if you want to get home and get changed before getting to the grid."

"I know," I say. And then we leave our haven and start to engage with the rest of the world.

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**I've tried to tie this in with canon as much as possible up to 10-4, so I hope it fits! Thanks for reading, and I might do some more fics from the first person as I've really enjoyed it.**


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